The Exterminator
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Harry Potter has vanished, leaving the magical world at the mercy of Lord Voldemort. A few years later, Death Eaters begin to die out, each one in gruesome ways. The Exterminator is here, and he is very familiar.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. I just own this story.

My thanks to White Angel of Auralon for his idea in dealing with Horcruxes.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Exterminator.

He'd had enough. He had _seriously __**had ENOUGH! **_

It was bad enough that he'd been incarcerated in Privet Drive, exiled to the muggle world with his disgusting muggle relatives. Again. But what made the whole thing worse was he hadn't heard _anything _from his so-called friends and his godfather. It was alright for them, telling him what to do with his life. Lord Voldemort was back. The genocidal war he'd waged against the magical world the first time around against anyone whom he didn't like was on the brink of happening again.

Harry would be the first to admit he had little knowledge beyond the hints he'd picked up on over the years he'd spent at Hogwarts, but he knew the magical world was completely unprepared for the upcoming war, especially since Fudge was being a moron and was sticking his head in the sand like the useless ostrich he was, but Harry knew Voldemort would come out of hiding, and he would launch his war on the unprepared magical world.

Harry had never particularly liked Fudge.

The man was a useless, posturing buffoon, a joke. Hagrid had called him a bungler, but when Harry had seen the foolish Minister of Magic underneath his invisibility cloak during that mess in his second year, he had been furious the politician had just taken one look at the official record and believed the same culprit was behind the petrifications. Harry would have loved to have seen Fudge's face when he discovered the culprit wasn't Hagrid, but now he had no reason to hide his instinctive disdain for the man, not now he was running this smear campaign against him.

He had to hand it to the Wizarding world. They really knew how to persuade their _heroes _how to help them, and now this mess. He hadn't expected Fudge to be as petty to use a smear campaign, but he could see the resemblance between what was being written to what Rita Skeeter had written for a whole year during the Tri-wizard tournament.

Harry shook his head. Thinking about the past was not going to help him during this current mess. No, he would have to think about he was going to do in the future. He had no desire to spend an entire year at Hogwarts, having to deal with the stupidity of the magical world during a difficult year with the OWLs, but as he thought it through he realised his mind was a blank because there were so many options.

He spent his time reading some of the comics Dudley had left by accident in the bedroom. All of them were in poor condition since Dudley didn't take care of anything within his paw-like hands, and he tended to destroy everything he had in his possession. Harry had sometimes wondered why Dudley bothered shoving all of his broken junk in the spare bedroom. He never played with it again, and he always lashed out with a temper tantrum which he only caused to get attention or force his parents to get him something new to smash in the long run. And on and on it went.

As he read through the Spider-Man comics, although he wasn't really interested in the story even if he and Peter Parker had a few things in common since they were both reluctant heroes, although in his case he had only saved the day simply to save his own neck since no-one else would, Harry couldn't help but think about what he had discovered the other day.

He had learnt he was being watched.

For some time since his return to Little Whinging, Harry had been hearing sounds and voices near him, but each time he heard them there was no-one near him, no sign of what could have explained the sounds. It wasn't until he had left Number 4 to walk about the town he had come across the sound of someone snoring in the front lawn. Harry had found another wizard snoring there away, not even considering the fact he was snoring loudly in a muggle neighbourhood underneath an invisibility cloak. At first he had wondered if they were Death Eaters, but he hadn't seen any sign of the Dark Mark on the forearm. It had taken Harry the best part of a week, but he had overheard these "guards" following him around, and he had recognised the voices of Alastor Moody, and Remus Lupin.

Dumbledore was having him watched. It was bad enough the old wizard was placing an information embargo on him and making Ron and Hermione and Sirius be very guarded about what information they wrote to him as if fearing too much would tip Voldemort's hand, but surely it wouldn't have been too much to ask if he honestly cared, then Dumbledore would have his watchers give him letters. Still, he wasn't expecting much.

He had no doubts about his relationships with his _friends _and his _godfather. _

Harry knew Ron and Hermione were deliberately hindering his education at Hogwarts. He had worked that out very quickly, and since Ron had the subtle approach of an elephant in a china shop, it hadn't been difficult to work out. Every time he had wanted to get some work done, Ron would whine and drag him away. Harry had capitulated and pretended to go along with it, but inwardly he would go off on his own at the first opportunity to get some work done. He never made it apparent with his written and classroom work. He didn't care what the teachers thought of him, and besides, he had some doubts about Dumbledore. Doubts which refused to go away.

Hermione was worse with her nagging, overachieving personality. She was a hypocrite of the worst kind, although Sirius seemed to top her arrogant attitude. She constantly hounded all the others in their year group to study, and yet whenever they achieved a score higher than her, she would throw herself into a tantrum, and go off and study. Harry had learnt the easy way he couldn't really trust Hermione of Ron, and when the end of their first year had come, he had thought it was a bit too convenient the traps which were so pathetically simple for a Dark Lord like Voldemort to get through, never mind three first-year students, were tailored for their strengths. It was just another notch of distrust as far as he was concerned.

Well, after this last year he didn't truly trust them anymore. He had seen the way Ron had turned his back, and even Hermione had been considering doing the same. Why she stayed, he had no idea.

As he read through the last X-men comic he had in his collection, Harry turned his thoughts over to Sirius. Honestly, he had no idea why his parents had bothered with the man since Harry had never been in the man's priorities. All Sirius wanted was revenge on Pettigrew. He had spent twelve years in prison even though his dog form was slim enough to slide through the bars. Harry had often wondered why the moron had never thought of coming out to him in the past, but he had bitterly accepted Sirius didn't care about him any more than anyone else. He also had no idea if his parents were indifferent to him as a baby, they might have saved his life but what if they had done it for some other reason?

He didn't care what Dumbledore had said about his mother's protection. He just could not get rid of those doubts especially after Voldemort had taken some of his blood to return, and the more time he spent in this muggle shithole by himself, Harry felt those doubts get worse.

When he opened the Batman comics, he sat up intrigued. He felt more in common with Bruce Wayne than any other superhero barring the X-Men who were misunderstood even if they tried to do some good in a world that would never accept them. But as he read how Wayne had left Gotham and travelled the world to pick up different fighting styles, Harry's mind began to wonder. He had originally planned to leave Britain at the end of his fifth year and let them sort out their own problems without him being there to hold their hands because they were so _pathetic _to do it themselves, but now a new idea came to mind.

He could leave the magical world, come back in a few years. He had no doubt when news got to Voldemort he was gone, the bastard would feel pleased and would go out of his way to unleash his war. Harry knew it would sign the death warrants of dozens of people, but in truth, he didn't really feel much sympathy for the magical world; they had seen the rise of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and they had refused to take it seriously, so why should he care now? Voldemort had been a problem long before he'd been born, so it wasn't really his problem, was it?

Okay, so he knew the dark bastard would be trying to get to him and finish what he had started years ago, but Harry was hoping if he left now, then he could train himself up. The days where Hogwarts was the best magical school in the world seemed to be a thing of the past, and with Dumbledore refusing to be straight with him, and letting him know what was going on since Voldemort was after him, Harry honestly saw little reason to stay here at all. Oh, he was sure Dumbledore would offer some moronic excuse about what he was doing, but he decided it made little difference to him.

He put down the comic and he looked around the ramshackle toilet which was his bedroom. He had to work fast on finding the right means of getting away from here, and he would need to get the Dursleys to give him some cover. It shouldn't be difficult if he told them he was leaving….

XXX

Four Years Later.

XXX

It had been supposed to be an easy attack.

The Death Eaters apparated onto a muggle street in the middle of the night where their spies had discovered not one, not two, but five Mudbloods were residing The Dark Lord had ordered the Death Eaters to assemble a team to wipe them out, although the two girls who were there were to be brought back with any other young teenage girls for entertainment purposes. The Death Eaters had jumped at the chance, although they all knew the Dark Lord had reminded them of the standing order simply because the imitation ceremony demanded the sacrifice of a muggle or a muggle-born to ensure the marking went smoothly, but the chance to rape and torture muggles and muggle-borns whenever they wished was a bonus.

The Death Eaters hadn't bothered to truly plan their attack since they knew they would succeed, but as soon as they arrived on the street they were stopped by a tall figure standing in front of them wearing a black coat. They couldn't see his face, but they knew he was a man.

"You're not going anywhere near the muggle-borns on this street," he said.

Bellatrix strode forward, a mocking smile on her face. "Looky here, boys," she sneered. "We have a Blood Traitor telling _his betters _what to do."

The man chuckled. "You see, this is what I despise about the magical world. You have so many names to describe those you hate; Mudblood for muggle-born, Blood Traitor for those who have pureblood like you, only in that case its levelled against those you simply don't like. What, can't you just find a better way of letting people know you dislike them without falling into the pattern of a schoolyard bully who just sounds stupid."

Bellatrix howled with rage, making some of her Death Eater team shift uncomfortably even if they yelled angrily at how the man had described them. "You dare mock us, you-!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" the man snapped, clicking his fingers. The Death Eaters screamed in agony before there was silence. As he looked down at the corpses, the man sighed and hoped the little task he was going to work on with the goblin allies he'd made worked. While it was fun being able to end the Death Eaters in this manner, he didn't want to keep doing it otherwise he would be discovered.

Still, it was a victory. Bellatrix Lestrange had been a mad dog, and he simply did not understand why on Earth she had been allowed to live. Surely it had occurred to the Ministry to show some common sense, and simply end the woman's life. The man shrugged. It meant nothing to him, and it made no difference; Bellatrix was dead, and she was not going to come back, and with the loss of one of his more powerful followers, it would be a decisive blow against Voldemort.

The man looked around the muggle street, waving his hand and taking down the wards he had placed on the street to prevent anyone from witnessing or overhearing the exchange in case it had gotten nasty, and he thanked the lucky stars he had managed to prevent a terrible night from occurring.

He pulled a metal nail from his pocket and he closed his eyes in concentration while he visualised what he wanted the metal to become, and he opened them again and smirked. He loved wand-less magic, and he wondered if it was another act to bring the magical world down on Dumbledore's part so they would continue looking up to him for help which was the reason it wasn't even taught in the basic stage at Hogwarts, but he decided it didn't matter.

He lifted the chain he had conjured, and he spent the next few minutes joining the Death Eaters to the chain before he stood up when he was finished, and he waved his hand, and the chain glowed and trembled as the portkey spell was applied. A second later, the chained Death Eaters were gone, leaving the man behind to clean up the mess.

XXX

"Bellatrix is _dead?" _Neville whispered as he sat with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix during the latest meeting. "How? Why?"

The Longbottom heir had always had mixed feelings about the Order. He knew from his now-deceased grandmother his parents had been members, but their membership had gotten them tortured so badly they had become living vegetables. Neville had only joined because truthfully there was nowhere else for him to go since he wanted You-Know-Who gone for good.

"We don't know how it was done," Tonks replied grimly, her eyes dark; those in the know who knew she was Bellatrix's niece had no idea what this news was doing to her. "We only know her chest was split open while her ribcage was torn to pieces. We don't even know where it was done since the initial analysis makes it clear the chain that bound the Death Eaters was a portkey. It could have been originated from anywhere."

"What is Voldemort doing?" Dumbledore whispered to Snape.

"The Dark Lord is furious. The Death Eaters had been sent to a random muggle street, although Bellatrix and the rest of the team were the only ones who know what was so special about the street," Snape answered in his usual calm and oily manner. "He is becoming paranoid, Dumbledore. He refuses to let anyone truly know what the rest of his teams are doing. He has ordered everyone to alert their spies and agents to find the identity of whoever killed Bellatrix."

Dumbledore nodded. That made sense. Bellatrix was one of Voldemort's most powerful followers, and she had been in charge of many of the terror missions. "We're going to do the same thing. We cannot allow a rogue element in a critical situation."

Some of the Order exchanged looks at that.

They weren't entirely happy with the manner in which Dumbledore was handling the war, and they definitely did not like it when the old wizard continuously preached about mercy and forgiveness, since it didn't stop the Death Eaters coming back and killing more people.

"Any news from Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked, looking around the room.

Some of the Order sneered. They were still unhappy with how their saviour had just run off like a coward, but they had been searching for him for so long their dislike for him had increased.

"No, Albus," Hermione Granger replied, the light of her wedding ring glinting. She was engaged to Percy Weasley, although they still had to set the date, they were hoping to marry after the war. If it ever did. "There's still no sign of him."

"We can't just give up," Sirius snapped desperately. He wasn't stupid. He had the horrible feeling Harry had left because he was tired of being lied to, and the information embargo had not helped matters at all.

"We are not going to," Dumbledore reassured him while he kept his innermost feelings to himself. "Continue the search, but I also want any information concerning this new group who went after Bellatrix. For those who work in the Ministry, trying to find out if there is any intelligence of bounty hunters who have come into Britain, tasked with killing the Death Eaters."

"You suspect it was a hired job?" Moody growled, nodding as he saw the logic.

"I don't know. But I know one thing; Voldemort won't take this lying down, and he will definitely make sure whoever was behind this is dealt with, but not before many others pay the price."


	2. Chapter 2

The Exterminator.

Harry was thankful his self-imposed exile had given him a much better insight into the goblins as a people so he could gauge their views, which was far better than the way he had been kept away from them over the initial years he had been in the magical world. The goblins had given him a vast amount of help, which mostly came from their willingness to gut, fillet, and sell the remains of the basilisk he had killed in his second year. It had brought the goblins a nice steady profit, and it had also given Harry a pair of new basilisk fang custom wands which were infinitely more superior than the wand he had purchased off of Ollivander on his first visit to Diagon Alley.

He now knew of course that the stuff the old man had told him about wands, how _"the wand chooses the wizard" _was a load of bullshit. Yes, some wands went better attuned to the magic of a particular wizard or witch, but overall wands just went with whomever held them. Harry still wasn't sure if Dumbledore had something to do with Ollivander giving him the brother of Voldemort's own wand, but as soon as he had thought about the way his wand connected with Voldemort he had gone out of his way to make sure it never happened again if he ever met the bastard in a fight again.

However he had known for some time that would never happen again, and if he were honest he wasn't particularly bothered.

When he had become a vigilante a year ago when he had travelled to Colombia in order to just study the country's magical heritage, Harry had journeyed out into the muggle world. He had decided it was time to get over the scruples he had of killing people (that time he had killed Quirrell didn't matter; in actual fact, Harry wondered if trying to hold off a possessed teacher who had a Dark Lord growing out of the back of the head like a pus-filled blister that needed to be popped counted as murder, but now he didn't care), and to be honest the chaotic Colombia was a perfect place to start.

He had killed at least seventy different people, although he wasn't sure if he had killed more - he wasn't bothered. Most of them were through the Killing Curse, although that time he had demolished that little fortress belonging to that drug cartel could have had double the number. Harry was sure there were innocent people there, but he had come to realise over the years you couldn't save everyone, and sometimes you needed to accept the fact the ends did sometimes justify the means.

There was no doubt in his mind Dumbledore had thought the same thing about him, believing that the ends did justify the means which was one of the reasons he'd come up with an elaborate scheme which extended to the type of wand core he owned, what trunk he took with him, and even who his friends were and what house he was in. He was sure it all added up somehow in Dumbledore's mind, but he had thrown it off balance because he had wanted to fight Voldemort differently since Dumbledore didn't seem to realise or get the hint the best way to fight the Dark Lord was through action, not inaction.

Harry remembered the newspaper article he'd received which showed Voldemort's return, and he had laughed at the expression on Fudge's useless face. He had no idea what had happened to the former Minister, who had been impeached following spending an entire year not only denying Voldemort's return which had given the snake-faced bastard the time he had needed to rebuild his armies and start developing strategies on how to best conquer the magical world in every country before taking over the muggle world. Harry wasn't sympathetic; his disdain for Fudge went back a long way, and although his successor Rufus Scrimgeour was only slightly better, especially once he had accepted the fact they wouldn't find the _Chosen One, _aka Harry, he had begun hiring bounty hunters because Fudge had made such a mess of the DMLE that he had accepted they didn't stand a chance.

The bounty hunter idea had been controversial, and it nearly cost Scrimgeour his job…not to mention his life more than once….but it had worked. The bounty hunters had not been afraid to kill some of the Death Eaters while getting the bounties on them like Dumbledore's self-righteous band of heroes who refused to kill anyone, and their presence made it very unattractive to all except the biggest fanatics out there.

In truth, the bounty hunters had been so good in an unexpected way Harry had actually considered not lifting a finger to help since the outsiders were doing a vast amount of good even if Dumbledore openly condemned Scrimgeour's decisions. The new Minister wasn't a spineless little weakling who snivelled and simpered around people like Fudge. He was more direct and he had more common sense. He had worked out a long time ago there was no way they could fight off Voldemort using stunning curses. Harry had been surprised by the surprisingly popular decision to just have the Death Eaters killed, and it made him wonder why they hadn't done it before. Every day the names the bounty hunters brought in had continued to make him question the point of actually going after the Death Eaters, but he had wanted to make it look like he was doing his part with the Death Eaters before he finally dealt with Voldemort.

Harry wondered how Dumbledore would take what he was about to happen, but he found he didn't care at all, about the Ministry, about the Order of Phoenix, and definitely not about Dumbledore.

"Very well, Mr Potter," Riptooth remarked as he held up the silver amulet which would soon contain the Horcrux in one hand while in the other he was holding a leaden box which he carried with ease. Despite their small size, goblins were much stronger than the average human, "We have finished the preliminary preparations, now if you will please follow me."

Harry stood up, towering over the goblin as they walked through the maze of corridors towards the room where the Horcruxes would finally be drained and Harry could at last put this nightmare behind him. "I am surprised you didn't want this to happen a long time ago, when we discovered the Horcrux in your scar Mr Potter," Riptooth remarked when they went through the door.

The ritual room of the goblins was basically a bathroom with a stone bowl cut into the floor, however with the various rituals that existed in the magical world, the room could be customised however anyone wanted. In this instance the ritual room was essentially no different from a conference room, with a table in the centre of the room with the stone bowl where potions would be poured into it for immersion of the individual the ritual had been arranged for covered up by a crystal plate, and Harry took up position by the table while he tried to imagine the types of rituals the goblins allowed, but he decided not to think of it because he had a job to do still.

"It was tempting, Riptooth, believe me," Harry said at last, while he stood over the table although it didn't come up any higher than just above his ankles. "But I'd had enough. I was frustrated with Magical Britain, and besides I felt the people here needed to experience a bit of suffering after what I found out when I arrived in Gringotts when I came to arrange my departure. I never understood why they expected a kid to do their dirty work, but I wanted to deal with Voldemort myself. In any case, before I left, I came across an ideology where struggle makes people stronger. Dumbledore kept pushing me through one disaster after another whilst keeping his own hands clean, so I thought why not give them a taste of their own medicine?"

Riptooth nodded silently. While he had his own personal thoughts on the matter, he had to admit the young wizard had a point. For far too long, the magical world had the annoying habit of doing nothing whenever a Dark Lord came out of hiding, and began a long period of warfare, making the people look to someone else to save them.

While he thought the boy should have simply had the ritual completed rather than make an impassioned plea to keep the Horcrux in a vault for a few years while he trained to come back, Riptooth didn't really care since the wizards needed a few days in the real world.

Harry didn't know what Riptooth was thinking, but he found if he had known then he wouldn't have given a damn either since the goblin thought the same thing he did, the magical world did need to live a few days in the real world after spending so long with their heads in the clouds.

The ritual started when the goblin opened the box and the jar which contained the Horcrux Harry had placed there was rattling about inside. Harry winced as he felt a sharp tingling in the remains of his now fully healed scar. He had learnt in some places that if you get a truly nasty curse scar, no matter what it was, and if you removed the worst of the damage, you would still have traces. Harry didn't have any trace of Voldemort's soul in his scar anymore, but he did have residual traces of the magic from the other wizard, and it was just reacting to the Horcrux, recognising the magic as its own.

The goblin transferred the Horcrux to the amulet, and after chanting a few words of an incantation in his own language, he looks up at Harry.

"Place the tip of your wand against the amulet, Mr Potter, and read this incantation," the goblin instructed and held up a slip of parchment. Harry took it and he closed his eyes and he calmly recited the incantation. He had magically studied gobbledegook when he had travelled the world, among other magical languages, so he didn't have much trouble reciting the incantation.

As he felt the syllables roll off of his tongue, he felt his magic beginning to surge through his soul, through his body, and through his hands into his wand and travelled through the basilisk fang inside the core until it reached the tip. The amulet glowed softly at first before it glowed brighter and brighter until there was a loud shriek, and another black soul piece flowed screeching through the bank into the room.

Riptooth frowned; that one seemed a little too close….

All the pieces of the soul went into the amulet, and then came the larger piece. Riddle himself. Harry watched dispassionately as the larger soul piece came flying through the room, screaming threats and promising to kill them for their insolence; Harry had to give the Dark Lord some credit, even when everything was hopeless, he was still arrogant and sure of himself to believe it was that simple. But there was nothing Voldemort could do.

His soul piece went straight into the amulet.

Voldemort's soul wasn't the only thing to go into the amulet.

Harry lost track of the number of misty grey-silver clouds came into the room and entered the amulet. When the last cloud went into the amulet, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity inside of him. So many people had willingly or unwillingly gotten themselves marked by Voldemort, but in the end the ends justified the means.

Finally it was over.

Riptooth looked up at him. "How are you going to get this to the Department of Mysteries?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, I've already arranged that," Harry told him.

"How?" the goblin persisted curiously.

Harry smiled. A few minutes later Riptooth wished he had some grog.

XXX

In his office in the Ministry of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour cursed the likes of Cornelius Fudge for making it virtually impossible for the DMLE to wage a full scale war.

He also cursed Dumbledore and his mindless ideologies for putting weird ideas into the minds of different generations of students.

When You-Know-Who had returned, the Aurors had been completely outmatched and outnumbered, and to make things worse the only ones with the experience were too old to be called to active service.

Scrimgeour had definitely pulled no punches when he had tried, and failed, to get more Auror recruits from Hogwarts, only to discover the issues with the lack of long-term defence professors and Snape's abysmal teaching practices. It had gotten so bad Scrimgeour had had Snape arrested while Dumbledore was out of the country.

The old wizard had gotten the greasy potions master off, of course, but Scrimgeour had made sure Snape's confession about deliberately breaking down the education for potions was released to the public. The damage had been such there was no choice for Dumbledore but to allow other potions teachers to go to Hogwarts. The Defence position was a problem, of course, but with special amulets provided by the Unspeakables several Aurors had managed to get around it.

The only problem was very few people wanted to be involved in the war and those who did just wanted to look good and very few of then even managed to graduate in order to take the Auror positions open. Rufus honestly had no idea how on Earth he was going to clean this mess up, but he hoped by the end of the war Dumbledore would be retiring. The old man had caused so much damage it was a surprise for Rufus when he had come to become Minister himself.

Fudge hadn't cared. He hadn't wanted anyone more powerful than him coming along, although the average toddler was more powerful and smarter than the little idiot. Rufus closed his eyes as he tried to think of ways of rectifying this mess. The bounty hunters had done a good job in getting rid of the Death Eaters which made his job easier, but beyond that he had no idea how long it would take before the mess caused by Dumbledore and Fudge was cleaned up.

At that moment a paper aeroplane flew into his office and landed on his desk.

Scrimgeour sighed and hoped this was something that wouldn't take all of his time. He opened the letter and began to read it, as he read through the note his eyes widened in shock just as Albus Dumbledore came into the room without knocking. "Ah, Rufus," the old wizard said, but the Minister stood up without saying a word to the old wizard. Surprised Albus went after the other wizard, and found himself in the atrium where the entire room was silenced.

Standing in the room wearing a muggle suit was someone Dumbledore had not seen in a long time. Someone he had tried to find.

"Harry?" he whispered in shock, but he became more pleased. "Ah, Harry my boy…It is a pleasure to see you again!"

Harry ignored Dumbledore and turned to Scrimgeour. "Minister Scrimgeour, you received my message?" he asked formally.

The Minister nodded although he wasn't sure if he should have Potter arrested or if he should just hear him out since he had claimed in his letter he had the means of ending the Dark Lord. "I did. Although you should know," he went on voicing his thoughts, "I should have you arrested; Dumbledore went to a lot of trouble to try to get you back."

Harry lifted a brow. He did know that. One of Dumbledore's plans was to release a prophecy he said concerned him and Voldemort, although Harry didn't know what the old man's long term plan was since revealing the prophecy was dangerous. In any case, by the time the old man had made that decision, he had long since been gone.

"I did. But I needed to get away. Dumbledore's methods of simply locking me away, using me to sort out problems, are things I can't see in the long term being constructive. In any case, I wanted to spend some time learning more about magic without being watched all the time," Harry said calmly before a touch of impatience crept into his voice. "Look, Minister, I don't really care how this meeting goes, so long as you hear me out. May we speak in private?"

Scrimgeour straightened up. "Of course, follow me please."

"Gladly."

Dumbledore tried to walk in on the meeting so he could listen in, but Harry used a casual flick of his wand which sent the old wizard back a few steps before he placed a few spells on the door. Scrimgeour's eyes narrowed while his body went tense, feeling the magic of the wards. He had no idea how long it would take before Dumbledore broke down the wards, but it would give him time to overhear Harry Potter.

"Alright, Mr Potter, why don't you begin?" he asked.

Harry smiled and sat down. He spent the next few minutes telling Rufus how he had been tired of being guarded by Dumbledore and his gang of heroes, how he had decided to go on the run while using Gringotts to cover his tracks. Harry also told the Minister how the goblins had removed the Horcrux from his scar after they'd examined him when he'd gone there, concerned Dumbledore might have put spells on him, which the old wizard had done, of course.

He told the Minister how he had gone abroad to Australia to continue his muggle education in a de-aged state while at the same time he had gone under his own age to China, where he learnt more about the more arcane forms of magic there, before he had travelled to India to learn parselmagic from a mage who lived there.

Harry left out the news he had gone after the Death Esters, he wanted to leave that part ambiguous. At the same time he had found that although Scrimgeour had good occlumency barriers, they weren't good enough. He laced his words with magic.

Scrimgeour listened with astonishment at what he was saying. "So you've had the means to end You-Know-Who all this time, but you haven't done it. Why?"

Harry sighed under his breath at the question although he'd expected it, really. "I wanted him to be revealed to everyone. Fudge had ruined this country's Aurors and other professions, believing they weren't needed. I left because I was tired, Minister. The people here are so desperate to be saved they refuse to accept the fact they can save themselves. I wasn't being prepared and I was tired of being led around, let out whenever my puppet master wanted to make me dance to his tune. I had to get away although I had plans to come back."

Scrimgeour looked at the amulet with fear. "What do you want to do?"

Harry smiled. It was working. "I want to take this to the Department of Mysteries; show the Unspeakables what it is without Dumbledore there, and then throw it into the Veil of Death."

The laced compulsions worked. Scrimgeour stood up. "Certainly, let's go," he said.

Harry smiled.

"Harry, Rufus, what's happening?"

"Why don't you join us, Headmaster?" Harry asked generously.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he took in Harry's back. He had no idea what Harry had been up to since, but he had no intention of letting the boy go. Never again. He palmed his wand handle, running through his mind the spells he could use to immobilise the boy, and push him into the confrontation with Voldemort.

_Oh well, I've got an entire walk to do that, _Dumbledore thought to himself as he hurried after the Minister who had proven to be more troublesome than Fudge in ways he did not like, and a boy who had caused him more than a few restless nights.


	3. Chapter 3

The Exterminator.

"The Department of Mysteries? What are we doing here?" Dumbledore asked in surprise when Scrimgeour led him and Harry into one part of the Ministry the old wizard had not been expecting. They had travelled through the bowels of the Ministry, past workers who took one look at the party, staring particularly at Harry in both surprise and resentment since it was well known the Boy Who Lived should have been fighting on the front lines.

Harry paid them no attention then, and he didn't mind ignoring Dumbledore right now, although he did give the old wizard an enigmatic reply.

"You'll see in a moment," he said while the Minister sent off a Patronus message to an Unspeakable.

When an Unspeakable who was free arrived - not someone who rang any bells in Dumbledore's mind - he glanced at Harry with interest. "You have something for me?"

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a lead box which immediately had Dumbledore frowning in confusion. "Open the box and examine what's inside," he said.

The Unspeakable did as he was told although Dumbledore could see he didn't like taking orders from someone outside of his organisation. Nonetheless, he opened the box and pulled out an amulet which was inside. The Unspeakable cast a few spells, chanting in Latin while the tip of his wand glowed as the scanning spells did their work.

He gasped in shock. "He made _Horcruxes!?"_

"_What?" _Dumbledore instinctively pulled out his wand, the incantation for the memory charm on the tip of his tongue when he found himself immobilised.

The Unspeakable glared at him with contempt. "I would have thought the Chief Warlock would have known already any form of attack would be treated as an attack on the Department. A bad idea, Chief Warlock."

Dumbledore was cursing himself in his head. He had acted like a fool by pulling out his wand, but he had been trying for a long time even before he had suspected Tom Riddle of creating the vile abominations of magic to suppress or remove the knowledge of Horcruxes, although that particular slip was mostly because he hadn't had the authority needed to fully purge the school, the only person who could do that was Armando Dippet, but his predecessor had never known about the dangers of the Horcruxes, so he hadn't understood the harm of keeping the knowledge at the school, but once Tom had found out enough from Horace, it hadn't taken long for him to find the right texts. Once he had them, he was able to implement the ritual for one of the foulest forms of magic imaginable, the splitting of the soul.

But when he had become Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore had gone out of his way to prevent anyone else from going down that path. He didn't want another Tom Riddle, and for the most part, he had succeeded in purging the school of the knowledge. The only knowledge in Hogwarts which contained enough knowledge was however locked up in a safe in his office which was layered with nasty spells and curses. Only he had the password, and if anyone tried to break in they wouldn't have time to regret it. Dumbledore hated violence, but he had no intention of letting another Dark Lord create Horcruxes on his watch ever again. Once was more than enough.

But in this case, Harry knowing about the Horcruxes was not good. He had wanted to be the one to tell the young wizard about them, and then send him out on a hunt to gather the others and destroy them. That way Albus could fake his own death, and come back stronger than before. Strong and powerful enough to kill Voldemort once and for all, while calling Harry a hero for preparing to die while taking the credit himself.

Harry had ruined the plan when he had left a few years ago, and Dumbledore had been struggling ever since to keep up with Riddle's savagery. When he had seen the boy in the Ministry, he had been delighted since his ultimate plans could be fulfilled at last. Now it looked like they would be ruined beyond repair.

Rufus was angry as well. "I hope you realise you're not above the law, Dumbledore. Mr Potter here told me he had the means of ending He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once and for all."

"But how?" Dumbledore demanded. He wanted answers to his questions badly. "What is with the amulet? What did you do?"

Harry stepped forward, drawing Dumbledore's attention over to him. "When I left the magical world, I went to Gringotts. I wanted to find out what options I had available, and at the same time I had them run a check to see if I had any spells on me."

Dumbledore went cold. Another wizard couldn't remove his spells except for Voldemort, and he had placed a number of spells on young Harry to keep him under his control while he prepared to sacrifice the boy for the Greater Good. But the goblins magic was different from anything he possessed, and he knew in a fight while he could inflict terrible injuries on them, Dumbledore knew he was no match for a powerful and highly experienced goblin who lived for thousands of years and became more powerful as they went on, always fighting and keeping themselves alert for a battle.

Dumbledore had little doubt they would have effortlessly removed the spells on Harry, and he hoped the boy didn't mention them. But the boy didn't, although he did send Dumbledore a look of contempt before he continued. "They found a fragment of Voldemort's soul in my scar. They removed the soul fragment and they placed it in the amulet."

"A fragment of his soul?" Scrimgeour whispered in horror as he remembered one lesson he had learnt as a child; never tamper with your soul, as it contained his magic and was important for his wellbeing.

"Yes, Minister. I don't know when he started to split his soul, but the goblins told me it was a flawed attempt to gain immortality. It doesn't work; souls have a finite lifespan, nothing can change that. They go back a long time, even before Herpo the Foul," Harry lectured, enjoying seeing Dumbledore flinch at the name of the infamous Greek wizard. "If Horcruxes did work, why aren't there thousands of immortals running around like Nicholas Flamel and his wife?"

Harry took a breath while he watched his audience. Dumbledore was starting to look pale as he was beginning to see just how many mistakes he had made because he had thought he had all the answers. Scrimgeour looked just horrified by the notion any wizard would be stupid enough to tamper with the soul, while the Unspeakable was looking like he not only agreed with the lecture but was enjoying it at the same time.

"Every ancient magical community sooner or later experimented with them, and they discovered found them acceptable before they discovered Horcruxes caused not only mental instabilities but magical ones as well. Some wizards and witches who made them gained a little more power, but they inevitably lost their abilities altogether while others just stopped being witches and wizards. The goblins told me there were tales of wizards who tried to make more, only to die as a result."

"Then how did You-Know-Who survive?" Scrimgeour asked curiously.

"I don't know, but the goblins theorised he was stealing magic off of the Death Eaters," Harry snorted suddenly. "It's ironic, he preached muggle-borns were taking the magic from pureblood's, and yet he was the one doing the deed."

Scrimgeour was busy assimilating the information he had been given and while he was horrified by what the Dark Lord had done, he looked at the amulet like he wanted to run away from it rather than be so close. "So that amulet contains his soul?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"What do you plan to do with it?"

Harry lifted his head. "I want to throw it through the Veil of Death, and when its thrown in the Veil of Death, Voldemort's soul fragments will die completely, and the Death Eaters will lose their magic. It's your choice, Minister; you can either forgive the Death Eaters like Dumbledore keeps telling people, and you can look forward to him coming back and destroying the magical world again, or you can do the responsible thing and let me end the threat once and for all. What's it to be?"

Harry knew what Scrimgeour was going to say before the other wizard said anything, but to be on the safe side he had no trouble endlessly making the other wizard dance to his tune. "We get rid of it," the Minister said decisively.

Harry smiled. "Good choice."

XXX

The Unspeakable led the small group through the Department of Mysteries until they came to the Veil of Death. Harry didn't bother getting too close to the Veil. Instead, he simply threw the amulet underarm like a cricket bowler while he channelled some of his magic to give his arm some strength, and he watched in satisfaction as the amulet went through.

Harry took a deep breath, finding the moment anti-climatic. "Well, that's done," he said at last.

"What happens now?" Scrimgeour asked.

"The Death Eaters will lose their magic, and then you can punish them."

"I meant about you. What do you plan to do now?" the Minister asked curiously while wondering if he could have the young wizard become an Auror.

Harry knew the Minister was hoping he would come back, but he had no particular desire to do that. "I don't know," he said truthfully.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Hogwarts would welcome you back, Harry," he said. "You still have time to continue your studies."

Harry couldn't believe how insular Dumbledore was. Where did the old man get the idea that Hogwarts was the only magical school in the world? Talk about arrogant presumption. "I went to a different magical school, and I got my OWLs and my NEWTs, and I've also gotten some masteries. In any case," he checked his watch, "ah, right on time.'

He started to cough and his body took on a more ashen appearance like he was falling apart.

Dumbledore gaped. "What?"

The Unspeakable was impressed. "A clone? Impressive!"

The clone collapsed to the ground and it looked like his legs had crumbled into dust, and he chuckled as he looked at Dumbledore's face. "Did you honestly think I would come out into the open like this on my own? Oh, how little you know me, Professor? Oh, and Minister," he said, "thank you."

Scrimgeour wondered what the clone was talking about but the clone had already fallen apart and became a pile of crystalline dust which transformed into black ash.

XXX

Harry sat up and rubbed his head tiredly. Creating a clone and then sending it off large distances and controlling it from afar was no easy task, and he was lucky there were spells and means of ensuring the clone worked. He was just grateful it had stood up to the scrutiny that was the Ministry of Magic and was capable of casting those spells on Scrimgeour.

The encounter with Dumbledore was a cause for concern, of course, but Harry wasn't really concerned about that anymore; the loss of the clone would mean the old wizard wouldn't be able to track him down later with the rest of the group he had under his command. Harry closed his eyes as he thought about Sirius; while he missed his godfather, Harry would and could never forget the pain he had felt when his godfather constantly put him second rather than thinking about what was more important if his own godson had anything to do with things.

Harry stood up and walked over to the window which showed a view of London, and he thought about what he was going to be doing now Voldemort was gone. He wondered if he should continue to be a vigilante, or if he should just live in the muggle world full time without anyone knowing where he was.

He stood by the window for hours, trying to work out what he was going to be doing next.


	4. Chapter 4

And that's it. The final chapter. Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Exterminator.

_I'd thought after I dealt with Voldemort and his bunch of thugs, I would never have to continue with this life, but here I am doing the work of the police who are either corrupt or they just turn a blind eye, _Harry thought to himself as he followed from a distance a man wearing a large, formless coat. In the weeks since he had left the magical world, Harry had been wandering around while he had looked for something meaningful to do.

With Voldemort gone and after his clone had broken down in a pile of ashes in the Ministry of Magic in front of the Minister himself and confounding Dumbledore for the last time, Harry had taken the time to simply enjoy life, the life he should have had if Voldemort and Dumbledore hadn't meddled in his affairs or his parents were murdered following Pettigrew's betrayal.

He had travelled the country and he had plans to travel the world, hoping to live his life to the full. He had time after all; he had his education done and dusted in both the magical and the muggle worlds, and he had qualifications and masteries in both worlds, so theoretically he could do whatever he wanted in either world, or he could do anything in both worlds.

Harry had been following the events in the magical world. Understandably news of what he had done to Voldemort was front-page news, although some of the sensationalist journalists who were either mental clones of Rita Skeeter or just wanted to make a name for themselves. And of course, the British Wizarding world had swallowed it. Hook, line, and sinker.

Harry had already received in the goblin post box he had set up through Gringtots to screen his mail a number of booby-trapped letters filled with bubotuber pus which the box managed to banish, although he had made a note of where the letters had come from, and he had sent back a few cursed letters back to them.

He wasn't Hermione Granger, who had done little against the people who had sent her such things when Skeeter had stirred the shit back when the Tri-wizard tournament was going on and was constantly writing disgusting articles about relationships which were just as imaginary as Dumbledore thinking he was a god. He had no intention of letting anyone get away with sending him something so toxic, especially since bubotuber pus was so dangerous. Harry had made sure the curses did not harm children, but the people who had sent the letters.

But so many people had sent cursed or booby-trapped letters to him. Many of them were calling him a coward who had left them all to suffer and to die, so he had needed to work for a month when he could have been doing anything he had wanted. In the end, he had written a scathing holographic message of himself to be played in the Ministry, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and Diagon Alley. Harry smiled as he remembered it going off in Diagon Alley.

XXX

Harry's hologram appeared in Diagon Alley. The sudden appearance took the shoppers and commuters by surprise, but the hologram quickly began to speak before anyone could say anything negative about his actions.

"_I have made this recording to let you know why I made the decision to not help the magical world, but instead to abandon it. Well, to each to their own. Why should I help a society which simply refuses to help themselves? You all carry wands, and yet you cower away and refuse to help yourselves when trouble comes out; what did you expect, that I was just going to allow you to push me like that forever? I had no idea how to fight, which is one of the reasons why I left. Since I left when everyone was deriding me, calling me an attention-seeking liar because I was making up tales Voldemort was back - oh its a name, you morons, get over it - why would I stand back and take it? I mean, come on - why should I?_

"_In fact, why would you think I would lie about something like that? Voldemort murdered my parents, and contrary to what you braindead idiots might like to think, I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was forced to live with a family of stinking muggles who loved reminding me I was unwelcome, calling me a freak because I had magic. So while you lot were enjoying life, celebrating the death of my parents, I was in a cupboard under the stairs, alone, cold, and barely alive. _

"_I am sorry for the loss of life, but there is nothing I can do about it. I can't bring back the dead and yet you think if you send cursed mail to me it will help. Get a clue - it won't. The best thing you can do is to learn from the experience. Stop letting Dark Lord rise to power. Stop letting the bastards scaring you. Stand up for yourselves. _

"_Two days ago I nearly got injured because someone sent a letter filled with bubotuber pus. Let's just say when I sent them something back it should make them think twice about sending such letters again._

"_Voldemort is dead. The magic he had used to keep him going failed, and now he and his followers have paid the price. The so-called light has won. Voldemort will never come back, and neither will I. Congratulations - I was wondering if I should rejoin the magical world, but thanks to you I won't. I also have a note for my successor, the next poor kid you lot elevate on a pedestal; beware the magical world, it is like a tide. One minute you are a hero, the next, a dark lord. Goodbye."_

XXX

Harry pulled himself out of those thoughts, and he continued following the muggles. They were a bunch of teenage thugs who were part of a gang of thugs who had begun terrorising a large portion of Brixton. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have reacted, but he had decided to start off small.

Harry had made his choice.

He was going to be a vigilante in the muggle world. He would use a mixture of magic and muggle means, although most of it would be muggle since he knew the magical world would be looking for him, especially since he had sent out that hologram. Many people in the magical world simply could not understand how anyone could live in the muggle world, but Harry could, and Dumbledore knew that although Harry felt the old wizard would make the usual mistakes everyone else did when it came down to it. Dumbledore would consider what _he _would do in Harry's place, not the other way around, and since Dumbledore didn't know his way around the muggle world like muggle-borns like Hermione Granger or Justin Finch-Fletchley did, he would flounder.

Still, becoming a vigilante hadn't been something he had considered. Personally, Harry didn't see any real reason why he should care about some things since some of it wasn't his problem, yet at the same time, he realised he knew no other life.

He had been hanging around Brixton for some time now, and he didn't really have any trouble finding the gang members. He had asked around for ideas of who the gang were, wiping memories here and there so then no-one would connect the dots when he had wiped out the gang forever, although many people were either too scared or didn't care. Still, that meant nothing to someone who was a master of the mind arts.

It hadn't taken him long to find confirmed members of the gang.

Now he had their trail, he would wipe them out.

He was just the Exterminator.

Harry followed the gang members to a hangout.

"Who are you?" one of the gang members demanded when he took off the charm he'd placed on himself.

Harry smirked as he took in the scene.

By the morning the police came and were baffled by how each member of the gang had been killed. In the newspaper, Harry just cut out the story, and in the weeks that followed as he continued his self-imposed mission to impose justice on the world, Harry collected articles of the things he had done. At the same time, he looked out for child abuse. More than once, he found children being abused by parents and guardians, and he made sure they either confessed their sins to the police, or he killed them. Harry had no idea if he would ever settle down, but hopefully, if he stopped the same type of suffering he had endured, the world would be a better place. He also went out to other countries and tracked down one criminal organisation after another.

And he exterminated them.


End file.
